I am Superman
by BeccaMuse9
Summary: Belarus was in love her brother, Ivan. Everyone knew that. But some things aren't always what they seem. Alfred learns this the hard way. Based on the song 'I am Superman' covered by REM. I do not own anything. Triggers: Rape and Self Mutilation.
1. Prologue

**(A/N): As usual (for me) this is a song fic. But I _swear _it didn't start out like that!**

**Based on 'I am Superman' by REM. I know it's a cover but I like that version better. Anyway... (WARNINGS! RAPE AND PHYSICAL ABUSE. SELF MUTILATION IN LATER CHAPTERS.) Now that that's out of the way... _ENJOY!_**

* * *

_She blushed as she drowned in those sky blue eyes._

"_I love you, Natalya."_

_Her breath hitched in her throat as he clutched her waist tightly and brought her face closer to his. She closed her eyes._

X~X~X

Belarus jerked awake. Strong arms clasped around her waist and squeezed uncomfortably tight, keeping her in her place next to him.

"Dobroe utro.(1)" Ivan said gruffly, flexing his arm to pin her more firmly down on the bed.

Natalya's lip quivered. She was in bed next to her brother. Again. A wave of nausea hit her as she remembered what had happened the before night. And the night before that. And what would happen the next day. Every night. With her brother. It had happened to her sister, Ukraine, first. Ivan had taken her into his bedroom for years and Katya always came out upset in the morning. But after decades of this, Ivan had tossed her out and given her to Eduard as charity toward his pitiful country. Now it was Natalya's turn. She was Russia's whore.

Ivan sat up and looked at her angrily, a white hot fire burning in his violet eyes, "I said 'Dobroe utro'!"

She gulped, "Dobroe utro, Ivan."

His lip twitched into in displeasure, "You had better answer me the next time I—" He cut himself off, mesmerized by the way her snow white hair fluffed out behind her and her naked features, outlined so perfectly under the sheets. A rough hand slid up her side and she shuddered with fear.

"You are lucky you are so krasivyĭ.(2)" Ivan shifted his weight so that he was on top of her.

Natalya's lips trembled and a tear rolled down her cheek. She tried to imagine that dream again. Looking into those honest blue eyes. America. Why him? That hamburger eater was disgusting and slept with everything that moved! And even though he might be cute.. And nice. And strong. And she could really use a hero... NO! That capitalist swine would never help her and she didn't need help! She was strong! She would never be with him! _Want._ She would never want to be with him. But it didn't matter. That self-proclaimed hero _wasn't _the one with her. He wasn't the one doing those things to her. Natalya winced in pain as she felt Ivan's cold metal pipe on her skin and more tears streamed down her face. Her own brother.

X~X~X

(1) Good Morning

(2) Beautiful

* * *

_The white haired woman scowled at him, tying his hands together above his head. She leant down to whisper in his ear._

"_You been so naughty, Alfred." She hissed in a Russian accent._

_He groaned as she straddled him and absentmindedly trailed the tip of her knife across his bare chest._

"_Do you think I should do something about it?" Her lips were inches away from his skin._

"_Y-yes."_

_Her face contorted with anger and she applied more pressure to her knife; it was threatening to break the skin, "What did you say?"_

"_Y-yes, Mistress."_

X~X~X

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Alfred grumbled and slapped at his alarm clock without opening his eyes. He had been having a great dream. He smirked sleepily. A sexy dream. And that women, the snow haired beauty… He commended his imagination for coming up with such a sexy, gorgeous, Russian—

His eyes flew open and he leapt out of bed. Not Russian. Belarusian. That Commie bastard's little girlfriend. His heart pounded in his chest as Alfred ran his fingers through his disheveled blonde hair. Why…? Why on Earth? That girl? Freaking Belarus! The one who always glared at him under her white bangs. The one who brought out those knives she carried around in her garters whenever she could. The one who… who always fixed her hair bow just right and pouted at her reflection. The one whose expression relaxed just the slightest bit whenever she thought no one was looking.

Alfred shook his head. The one who was infatuated with his mortal enemy! Right? She was in love with her brother. Everyone knew that.

"Oh God…" He groaned, putting his glasses on lopsided before straightening them out, "I am _so_ going to Hell."

* * *

**(A/N):** **I hope you liked it! I do apologize for how short it is... But this_ is_ a prologue, you know.. Reviews make me update faster!**


	2. And I know what's happening

**(A/N): Thank you to all my readers! I love you all! Even more than I love AmeBel. (I Cosplay as Belarus by the way) :)**

* * *

_Chapter 1: 'I am… I am… I am Superman. And I know what's happening.'_

_**X~X~X**_

Natalya sighed. She was finally back in her own country. Ivan had forced her to stay in his house for… She didn't want to count up all those horrid weeks again, but it had seemed endless. Now with only a few days before the World Conference, Belarus moved about her modest house, packing and filing paper work. This meeting would be tedious and useless like all the others before it but… She allowed herself a hopeful smile.

Arthur always booked the hotel rooms. That meant that she and Katya would room together. Her sister would be upset the whole time about her country's economic state and being separated from her boyfriend, Eduard. It was a recent relationship and Natalya tried to be happy for them. But the only reason Katya could date him was because Natalya was with Russia instead. Still it would be nice to spend time with her. And… it was a brief escape from Ivan.

She looked around her house. Everything was done. Natalya sat down on a straight backed chair, her hands toying with her apron while her bored mind wandered. That dream popped into her head. America's goofy grin shined down upon her as he leaned in close, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Belarus tried to push it out of her mind. She ran her fingers over her thighs in a manic gesture.

Bruises. Wincing, she tugged the hem of her skirt down further. Ivan's voice whispered in her ear.

"Eto budet boleznenno.(1)"

"Nyet!" Natalya screamed. Jumping up, she ran through the house in search of something to do. Anything. Anything to keep her mind from wandering.

**X~X~X**

(1) This will be painful.

* * *

"Yo, dude!" Alfred clapped his twin brother on the back, "How've you been…? Uhh…"

The man looked up at him, "Matthew. Your brother, remember?" He whispered.

"Right!" Alfred grinned, "Thanks! That would have bugged me all day!" He ruffled his brother's hair, "So how _have_ you been?"

"Ow…" Matthew shrank away, hugging his bear close. God, he _always_ had that freaking bear with him! "I'm okay… I'm behind on paperwork because Kumakiku has kept me pretty busy. And it's maple syrup season…"

"Awesome! You'll send me some again, right?"

Matthew gave him a small smile, "Of course, Al."

"Sweet!" Alfred wrapped his arms around the man tightly, though he was not quite sure who he was hugging anymore.

"Are you ready for the World Conference?"

Alfred narrowed his eyes and released the small person, "What's it to you?"

"I'm your brother."

"Oh!" Alfred blinked, "Yeah!" Then he groaned, "Oh damn… I forgot about that thing.. Where is it this year?"

"England."

He sighed. It seemed like he had just gotten away from that prick. But still… Alfred gave him a crooked smile, "Well… Our big brother always makes it interesting at least. Maybe it'll actually be fun this time!"

Matthew smiled, "I hope so."

Alfred blinked down at him, "Who are you again?"

**X~X~X**

"ATTETION!" Arthur banged a gavel on the table.

"Where the hell did he get that gavel from?" Alfred asked.

"I do not know." Yao sighed, "He seems to pull things out of nowhere. Like Opium.. (2)"

Britain's lip twitched with anger as he glared at China.

"Ve~! You don't think it is that Black Magic he's always talking about, do you? I'm scared of magic! Unless it's bunnies and hats and cards and doves and other things… They can pull anything out of that hat, you know! Do you think they could pull out pasta? A yummy bowl of pasta! I would like that! But what if they use Black Magic to make the pasta? What if it's all scary and not nice to me? Mio Dio! Why would they do that? To perfectly nice pasta? It never did anything to hurt them! And if it did, I'm sure it's _very _sorry…"

"Calm down, Feli." Ludwig wrapped a protective arm around his excitable boyfriend.

"Kesesese.." Hissed Gilbert, "The Italian is right.. Let him be paranoid, West. That will leave us free for another of those delightful German Sparkle Parties." His gaze moved to Roderiech.

"¡Cállate!(3)" Antonio shouted as an embarrassed blush creeped up his Austrian boyfriend's neck, "You know there no chance of that ever happening again, Estúpido!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, Roddy! You loved it! And you love the awesome me! Kesesese… Stoppen Sie täuschen sich…(4)"

Antonio's face went red with anger. He would have been proud. He looked just like a tomato.

Alfred leaned back in his chair, for once content just to listen to the arguments instead of joining in. He let his gaze wander across the faces of his friends and enemies. He had vivid memories of each one, good and bad. Except the strange guy sitting right next to him, hugging what he hoped was a _stuffed_ polar bear. Alfred shrugged and looked around again.

A flash of white hair caught his eye and he tilted back in his chair a little too far, almost falling over. He saw her from all the way across the table. Belarus. Russia's most faithful ally and girlfriend. That was all Alfred knew about her. He didn't even know her real name. Her small hand lay uncomfortably on the table— Ivan's large one covering it possessively.

Alfred stared at her. He had never realized how much of his time at these meetings he had spent watching the girl. Woman, he mentally corrected himself. She was older than he. And she was with Russia, the love of her life, so why did she always look so… sad?

Her violet gaze moved up to his. Shock filled those gorgeous eyes before it was replaced by her trademark glare. Alfred knew he should have looked away, that scowl had been known to kill. Okay so maybe that was an exaggeration... But still, he didn't break the eye contact. She was so pretty. He gave her a small but genuine smile.

She stared back in shock and her scowl slipped. The mask fell away for just a second and Alfred saw what she was hiding from the outside world. Agony, terror, fear, and pain. So much pain. He gasped. She looked away quickly but he kept his eyes trained firmly on her, not noticing the other set of violet eyes on him.

Ivan's hand tightened on Belarus's painfully. She grimaced for a moment before smoothing her expression once more. The mask was back. Alfred looked away, panicked. What was happening? Was that his fault? Oh God… Did he get her in trouble? What would happen if Ivan—

"SHUT UP!"

It was Arthur again.

"Could we all please… PLEASE? Just focus?"

"Calm down, Iggy." Alfred mumbled, trying not to think about the Belarusian beauty across the table.

"We are terribly sorry, mon amour.(5) We will be quiet." Francis smiled at him.

Arthur scowled at the Frenchman, "Right oh! Down to business! Roll call!"

Alfred rolled his eyes. Of course. Roll call. This was like his classes with England all over again. He half expected to be put in detention.

"North Italy!"

"VE~!"

"Germany!"

"Ja."

"Japan!"

"Hai."

"America!"

"Dude, I'm sitting right next to you…"

Arthur looked down at him disapprovingly.

"France!"

"Oui."

"Russia!"

"Da."

Alfred saw an almost imperceptible shiver roll off Belarus's shoulders at the sound of her brother's voice.

"China!"

"Dui, aru."

"Austria!"

"Ja…"

"Spain!"

"Si."

GOD THIS IS _SO_ BORING! Alfred let his head drop onto the table and only looked up when he heard Arthur falter in his list.

"…Canada..?"

".. I'm here…" The man beside him whispered with a smile.

So that was his name.

"Belarus."

"Da." Her voice was so small. Whenever he had heard her talk in the past she had practically been screaming. But now he could barely hear her. Like she didn't _want_ to be heard. Or noticed. Or seen. She should ask that guy for help… Canadia? Was that his name? Alfred shook his head, trying to focus. What had changed with her? She looked that same. Well, physically she did. Didn't she?

Alfred looked back at her. He started to notice that differences. She was hunched over, as if she was broken. There were dark purple circles under her eyes that marred her otherwise perfect pallid skin. Her clothes were wrinkled and her hair bow was crooked. She… She looked awful. How had no one noticed? How had he not noticed? Why was she different..? What had changed?

"Nyet," Ivan spoke in that smooth creepy ass voice that Alfred couldn't stand, "England, I'd be more worried about your country than all of mine. I've heard some troubling things about your monarchy.(6)"

Arthur ground his teeth, "Russia, that is not the issue at the moment. I am just saying that we are all a little concerned about the dependent economies of some of your wards. If something should happen then all of the former Soviet States would—"

"Would be just fine, Da?" Ivan interrupted before looking at the small nation next to him, "Wouldn't we, Natalya?"

Natalya… Natalya was her name. Alfred mulled it over his mind. Natalya… What a lovely name.

Belarus looked up to see all of the Nations staring at her. It was terrifying. She didn't speak until she felt the eminence pressure of Ivan's hand on hers. She bit back a cry and then opened her mouth.

"Da. We would be fine. My vialiki brat (7) is very good with money and always takes good care of us." She recited it from memory and in a monotone, but no one seemed to notice.

Arthur shrugged grudgingly, "Very well then. I am sorry to have doubted you."

Ivan laughed, "Kolkolkol.. As you should be."

The Englishman running the meeting stood up, "Alright. On to new topics."

Alfred's face twitched with anger as Ivan draped his arm around Natalya's shoulders. He was the difference. He was what had changed. That Commie Bastard… Ever since they had started dating—

The realization hit Alfred in the chest like a ton of bricks. They were dating. Ivan and… _Natalya_. There was nothing he could do. Natalya caught his eye again but Alfred looked away. Ivan was her boyfriend. So what if that made her slightly unhappy? Weren't relationships always like that? He shook his head. It didn't matter. Dating him was the choice she had made. Right?

He peeked back at her for a second. The way she shrunk away from the Russian whenever possible. The way Ivan's arm was around her, as though to make sure she was never too far away from him. Perhaps… Perhaps it wasn't her choice...? Perhaps she was being forced…

Arthur rolled his eyes and pounded his gavel again, "Okay, everybody! Enough for now! Lunch."

With that simple word, all of the countries stood up immediately and filed out of the room as quickly as possible, with the exception of Heracles who was still fast asleep in his chair. Alfred was pushing past some bitchy, girly country, Poland he thought, when he felt sometime tap him on the shoulder. He wheeled around to see Arthur.

"Come on, Alfred." The man sighed, "We are all going to get lunch." He gestured behind him and Alfred saw another country he had never seen before.

"That's great, Iggy." Alfred grinned, "I love meeting new people!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "It's Matthew."

"Oh…! Good to see you little bro! But I'll be just a minute. You guys go ahead!"

Matthew smiled and Arthur nodded, mumbling something about Francis that he couldn't hear.

Alfred shrugged and jogged toward the exit with the full intention of getting a quick bite at McDonalds before subjecting himself to whatever the Brit had planned for lunch.

**X~X~X**

(2) Reference to the Opium Wars which were _long _over

(3) Shut up!

(4) Stop fooling yourself..

(5) My love

(6) Referring to Prince Charles and Lady Diana's divorce and adultery scandal

(7) Big brother

* * *

He was not lost. He never got lost. So that means he was definitely not lost! Alfred turned another corner, still looking for the exit to that godforsaken building. But he just ended up in the corridor that held all the countries offices again. He groaned, close to punching through a wall. He was SO HUNGRY! He was sure he had never been so hungry in his life, besides maybe that time he had stayed over at England's house for a week. He didn't know if he could make it… But then he remembered. There was a mini fridge in his office.

Alfred ran as fast as his clumsy legs would carry him. He fell into his office and opened the fridge. His eyes were as wide as saucers. Jackpot! Moaning in absolute ecstasy, he devoured candy bars, bags of chips, and poured soda after soda down his throat. He crumbled up the cans and tossed them lazily toward a recycling bin, belching loudly. He glanced down at his watch. Meh.. Probably time to go find Iggy.

Stumbling to his feet and tugging at his leather gloves to make sure they were on correctly, Alfred swaggered out of his office.

"_I am… I am… I am Superman. And I can do anything."_ He sang under his breath before stopping short. He heard something. A struggle and hurried words in Russian.

"Nyet! Pozhaluĭsta, prekratite . Ne syeĭchas ." (8)

It was Natalya's voice. He wasn't quite sure of what she was saying (his Russian had gotten rusty since the end of the Cold War) but her heard the tone of her voice. It made him uneasy as he realized where it was coming from. Alfred crept toward Ivan's office, his hand on resting on the Colt .45 strapped to his hip. The noises of distress grew louder even from behind the heavy wooden door.

"Nyet!" She screamed.

He pulled out his gun, finger on the safety and kicked the door down. Ivan had Natalya pinned against the wall with one hand in her hair and the other up her skirt.

Ivan's head snapped around as he covered Belarus's face with his arm "America! Don't you know it's rude to interrupt someone and his girlfriend?"

"I... I'm sorry.." Alfred said stiffly, "I heard.. screaming and I…" Natalya's head poked out from under Ivan's arm and he saw her face for the first time. Tear streaked, desperate, in pain, and disbelieving. She was shocked that anyone had come. He saw it in her eyes—the longing, the begging. _Help_. His eyes widened and before he knew what he was doing, Alfred hit the large Russian on the back on the head with the butt of his gun. Ivan crumpled to the floor, out cold, and Natalya fell away from the wall.

Alfred stepped in close to catch her. But she didn't fall. She only stumbled and pulled down her skirt. He watched her carefully before pulling out his phone and dialing a number.

"I'm calling the police." He informed her, "They will take care of... him."

"Nyet!"

Alfred looked up. She was panicking.

"No! Please… Don't.."

He looked at her, astonished, "What? No! We have to call them! He tried to—"

"No.. Please, America. If he… Please.." She wouldn't meet his eye.

"I-I… Alright. But I'm calling Arthur."

She nodded and turned her head.

Alfred stepped closer to her, "Are you okay?"

"Da." She spoke softly.

He nodded as the he heard Arthur's voice on the other end of the line, "Yeah, Iggy. I knocked out Ivan. We are down in his office. What? No. Just get someone to... NO! A doctor or something. I don't know.. Belarus, do you need a doctor…?" He looked up but she had already left.

"Hey!" Alfred called after her, "Careful…" He jogged forward to catch up to her, ignoring the words that Arthur was yelling at him. He hung up on the Brit, "Where are you going?"

"Away." She mumbled, moving at an alarming rate.

He frowned and caught her hand, "Are you sure you are okay?"

Natalya wheeled around. She was face to face with him. Sky blue eyes met violet ones. Alfred's breath caught in his throat. He had never been so close to her before. Her cold demeanor and icy glare were stripped away. She looked different without them. More human.

"It'll be okay, Natalya." He said breathlessly.

Her eyes went wide for a second, as though remembering something, before they narrowed. "Get. Off. Of. Me."

Alfred felt the cold metal poke of what could only be a knife in between his ribs. He let go of her and raised his hands in surrender. She backed away slowly, lifting the blade of her knife to his throat instead, "Thank you for…" Her eyes flicked over to Ivan in terror before they returned to him with a glare and swallowed, "Saving me. But if you ever touch me again… My knife will find its way right in between your eyes. And I never," The blade pressed against his neck, "ever want to hear you call me by my actual name again. Zrazumieŭ? (9)"

"Y-yes."

"What did you say?"

Alfred's eye went wide. The words were exactly the same. It was all the same.

"Yes." He said with more confidence.

"Dobra. (10)" She lowered her knife and backed away carefully. Alfred massaged his neck, surprised to find it completely cut free.

"Look, I am sorry… I didn't mean to do anything to offend…" He looked up and stopped midsentence. Lunging at her, he caught her just before she hit the floor. The knife fell out of her hand and skittered far out of her reach.

Alfred was kneeling on the floor, cradling her in his arms, "Natalya…? Natalya? Are you okay?" Her skirt rode up and he saw them. Bruises.. All up and down her thighs. Some were fresh but some were yellowing and weeks old.

"Oh…." He gulped.

"Jak ciabie zavuć?(11)" She mumbled.

Alfred brushed away the hair that was stuck to her face with sweat and cursed himself for not keeping up with the languages like he should, "What?"

Her hands balled up in the fabric of his shirt as she struggled to stay conscious, "… your name…?"

"Alfred… It's Alfred… Don't worry! You are going to be fine! Just hold on. Please."

A small smile graced her lips as she repeated the name, "Alfred…." She heard his frantic words as though she were underwater. But it didn't matter, "Alfred…" She said again, finally letting the darkness she had been keeping at bay engulf her.

**X~X~X**

(8) No! Please stop. Not now.

(9) Understood?

(10) Good.

(11) What's your name?

* * *

**(A/N): I'm working on Chapter 3 already! It's just the editing I'm running behind on. R&R!**


	3. Love that guy you make it with?

**(A/N): Hey again! Here's the second chapter! I hope you like it. And have a great day!**

* * *

_Chapter 2: You don't really love that guy you make it with, now do you?_

**X~X~X**

…. beep… beep… beep…

Noises.. Whispering above her.. She wasn't sure who it was, but.. She hated whispering.. People talking about things that she couldn't hear. People talking about her…

She felt a hand on hers.. Ivan! O, Boža!(1) He was here to take her home with him! To take her back to his bedroom… But the hand wasn't as big or tough as her brother's… And it was gloved.

Her eyelids fluttered open. Her vision was hazy but she could make out colors. Blue. And yellow. And brown.

"Hey, sleepy head." Alfred whispered above her.

Her mouth opened to respond but her throat was as dry as dust. She was in a hospital.. She just knew it. The smells and sounds.. They were ones of death. She hated hospitals.

Alfred smiled, "Don't worry, Natalya. Just rest."

Her eyesight was perfect now. She saw him looking down on her with adoring eyes. With lightning speed her hand went down to her garter, but there was only an empty sheath.

"Yeah…" Alfred rubbed the back his neck, "I had them take your knives."

Her eyes narrowed and her hand went up her shirt.

"And the one from your bra."

She snarled at him but lay back on the bed.

"It's okay, Natalya. You'll be just fine soon enough." He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. He felt something razor sharp at his neck. Her hair pin… Of course.

"Move any closer and I will slit your throat, America." She hissed.

He backed away slowly, "Alfred… Remember? It's Alfred."

She glared up at him and pointed toward the door, "Pakińcie.(2) Now."

He nodded, walked away. Her eyes never left him. Alfred turned back, lingering at the doorway, "As you wish."

She scowled at him and he rolled his eyes, slipped out of the room. She had clearly never seen the 'Princess Bride'. If she had she would have been laughing hysterically. Right? He shook his head, gazing in on her through the window. She sat up on the bed, head in hands. Her thin shoulders shook delicately with sobs.

Alfred's heart broke. He placed his hand on the glass that separated them. Her head snapped up at the sound. He saw a thin silver blur and then WHAM! Her knife hit the glass right in between his eyes, cracking it just a little before bouncing off and landing on the linoleum.

Right then… Maybe he would wait somewhere else..

**X~X~X**

(1) Oh God!

(2) Leave.

* * *

Natalya watched him leave the glass window. She swooped down to pick up her hair pin again, clutching it tightly. How dare he..? How dare he try to help her! She didn't need anyone's help. She was perfectly fine! And then _he_ came along… He took her to a hospital that she didn't need to go to in the _first _place! He stayed with her… And… And..

Her anger fell away, only to be replaced by shame. She reached out and pulled the sheets over her head.

The voices started again… They always did.

"_Vozvrashchaĭtesʹ_(3)_..."_

"_Vernitesʹ k nemu,_(4)_ Natalya…"_

"Nyet." She muttered, "Pozhaluĭsta..."

They whispered in her ear. They wouldn't stop. She shut her eyes tight to keep the visions at bay. But there was only one thing that would help.

Natalya rolled up her sleeves, revealing the old scars. Dragging the blade of her knife along the underside of her forearm, she watched blood flow out slowly. As the scarlet liquid drained from her arm, the voices quieted. Like they were being drowned out by her blood.

She opened her eyes. The visions were gone too. She could think again. But she didn't want to. The man was only trying to help her… And God knows she needed it. America… The hero.. The one in her dreams. The man of her dreams. She scowled at the awful cliché.

"Alfred." She croaked out, half-heartedly applying pressure to her wound with the sheets. The image of his hurt blue eyes when she had told him to leave flashed into her mind. She gripped her knife tightly by the blade. It opened another cut on her palm but she couldn't feel the pain anymore. "A-Alfred…"

**X~X~X**

(3) Go back

(4) Go back to him

* * *

He felt someone tap his arm. Alfred opened his eyes in confused only to be met with Arthur's bushy eyebrows.

"You fell asleep." The Englishman stated.

Alfred shrugged, "Yeah.. Thanks, Iggy. Where am…?" He groaned. Of course he knew where he was. He was sitting in the most uncomfortable chair known to man in the waiting room of a hospital. Waiting for…

"Did you hear anything?" Alfred asked, jumping to his feet.

Arthur shook his head, "No. Nothing yet. She'll be fine though." Alfred fell back in the chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his glasses had dug into his skin. He really needed to stop wearing them when he fell asleep. Or maybe he just needed to stop falling asleep in random places.

"The real question is…" Arthur raised a thick eyebrow, "Why are you still here?"

Alfred frowned at his older brother, placing his glasses back on his face, "What do you mean? You can't expect me just to leave after… that?"

Arthur frowned, "You saved her. There is nothing left to do. She kicked you out of her room and she's…" He bit his lip, "She's Belarus, Al. She's not our problem."

The younger nation stood, regaining his height advantage, "Not our problem? She was almost raped! The doctors said there are clear signs of it happening before! And Natalya—"

Arthur raised his eyebrow.

"_Belarus_." Alfred corrected himself through clenched teeth, "She's not in her right mind yet... I don't think at least."

The Brit shook his head, "What have you gotten yourself into, little brother?"

He looked away, not meeting Arthur's eye.

Arthur sighed and stepped closer to America, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Let me give you one piece of advice."

Alfred shrugged.

"You never,_ ever_ want to mess with Russia."

He sighed and nodded.

"Unless… It's worth it."

He glanced up at his older brother with a questioning look.

"Is it worth is, Al?"

Alfred heard what his brother was saying, 'Is _she_ worth it?'

"I-I… I'm not sure, Iggy."

England patted him on the back, "Well… You'd better figure it out soon." He said before looking back over his shoulder, "And I have to go. My ride is here."

It was France.

Alfred smirked, "Speaking of figuring things out…"

The shorter man blushed, "Francis and I are just friends."

"With benefits." The Frenchman drawled, coming up behind Arthur and licking his ear. The Englishman's flush grew even more pronounced.

"Ohh…" America cringed, "Come on, guys. I love y'all.. but I don't need to see that. Get a room."

"On our way." Francis jangled keys in front of his lover.

"Uhh…" Arthur looked back and forth between the two men, "Alfred.. I have to…"

"Just go!" Alfred laughed, faking a gag. In actuality he was very happy for his brother. He watched them leave, hand in hand. Arthur had spent way too much time alone… Those imaginary creatures he talked to were proof enough.

He sighed and fell back in that awful chair, closing his eyes. He was still exhausted. Maybe he could catch a few more Zs… But as he ran his hands through his dirty blonde hair, those words played over and over in his mind.

"Is it worth is, Al?"

"Is _she_ worth it?"

Was she? He didn't know. Alfred smacked himself in the face. How _could_ he know? He barely knew her. His eyes widened and a nervous grin replaced his frown. He only had one option. Sighing, Alfred stood up.

**X~X~X**

Natalya grudgingly thanked the nurse who was fiddling with the IV tree she was hooked up to, hiding her hand and arm underneath the sheets. If the woman saw the fresh cuts she would take away her knife. And that was the last thing she wanted.

There was a tap on the glass and Natalya's head jerked up. It was Alfred again. She scowled and was about to tell her nurse not to let him in when the woman spoke.

"Oh, Honey… He's cute." She drawled, "Hold onto that one."

Belarus frowned before rolling her eyes. Apparently the man had taken the fact that she had not thrown her knife at him again as an invitation to come in.

"Hey, Natalya!"

Glare.

He smiled and looked her nurse, "Do ya think you could give us a minute?"

The woman nodded and turned to leave.

"Thanks, Doll." Alfred winked at her before turning back to Natalya.

A biting remark was on the tip of her tongue and her hand stiffened, ready to throw the knife. But something caught her off guard. Alfred's good natured smile fell and he ran a gloved hand through his hair. He had taken off his white dress shirt— now only in his undershirt and leather bomber jacket. He looked exhausted.

She scowled as he collapsed into a chair next to her, moaning something about it being so much more comfortable as his eyelids slid shut. She swallowed. Her eyes raked over his toned body before she forced them elsewhere. Still… She had to ask, in spite of herself.

"Have you… been here the entire time, America?"

He hummed sleepily before sitting up, "Yeah. 'Course."

"But…" Natalya looked up at the analog clock on the wall. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious or even when she had arrived at the hospital but it had been at least four hours since she had kicked him out of her room, "Why?"

He chuckled nervously, "Well… You know.. After everything that happened with Ivan,"

Her breath grew shallow as she remembered. But she hoped he hadn't noticed it. He had.

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, "I guess I was just worried about you, Nata—" His gazed snapped up to hers, expecting a knife at his throat again. But she didn't move. She just watched him with curious eyes.

He looked away, "How long?"

"Što?(5)"

He leaned forward, "How long has… that been happening?"

Her breath caught in her throat and her gaze fell to her lap, "I-I.. I don't know what you are talking about. That was the only time. Nothing else happened."

His sky blue eyes bored into her once more. She didn't know when he had stood up, but his hand moved to grip hers. She didn't move away.

"I saw the bruises, Natalya." He whispered.

She didn't speak.

"The doctors said that it's been happening for a while."

Her hand balled up in sheets and the other gripped his fingers tightly, "I-I… I.. Nyet."

"Natalya." He whispered, brushing her bangs out of her face lightly, "Please…"

Her violet eyes went wide as she spoke in a soft, broken voice, "_Years_."

His eyes hardened just bit before softening again, "It's okay."

Alfred felt like his heart was in a vice. How…? How had this been happening for years? How had he not figured it out before now? Unless… No. He couldn't ask her…? Could he?

"Do… Do you love him?"

Her grip on his hand tightened even more. She was shaking. He laid his arm around her carefully, trying to comfort her.

"He's… He's moĭ brat.(6)"

"But do you love him?"

A tear fell on the white hospital sheets.

"He's.." She hunched over, head in hands.

"Oh.. Natalya. It's okay." Alfred hugged her close.

She sat up quickly, "No. It's not." There was a flash of silver and red. Natalya's knife buried it's self in the wall across the room. There was blood streaked across the blade and handle. "NYET! I do not love him! How could I love someone who does such horrible things to me?"

Alfred sat very still, watching her carefully. She was breathing heavily.

"I hate him. But I... I need him."

Exhaling sharply, Natalya reached up and brushed her hair out of her face. It left a smudge of blood across her forehead. His gaze fell down to the hand in her lap.

"Natalya! Your hand!"

She looked down. She had reopened the cut on her hand, the one on her arm still hidden by her sleeve. It was even deeper, the blood flowing from it and soaking into the white sheets. She stared at it, a glazed, calm look in her eyes, until a gloved hand applied gauze to it.

Natalya hissed, looking up. Her face was inches from his.

"That doesn't hurt does it?" He looked up and his eyes went wide, shocked at how close she was.

"N-Nyet. Not anymore." She looked into his soft, honest eyes, "A-Alfred."

He smiled and leaned in. Their lips met.

"_Kolkolkolkolkolkol…"_

Natalya shrieked and whipped her head round, "Did you hear that?" Her gazed danced frantically around the room. No one was there.

"Hear what?" He asked, tightened his arm around her waist protectively. He was strong, squeezing her and holding her down.

"Vyjdzicie(7), Ivan! Stop!" She screamed and pushed Alfred off the bed, "Nurse! NURSE! Help!"

Alfred looked up at her, kneeling on the floor where she had thrown him, "Natalya…? What's…?"

She looked at him, a crazy glint in her eyes. "Get away from me! Pozhaluĭsta! Just leave me alone!"

He scrambled to his feet, "Natalya… It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Nyet! Stop, Ivan!"

Alfred backed away while Natalya screamed obscenities at him along with a mix of Russian and Belarusian. But what disturbed him was what she kept calling him.

"_Ivan."_

He was quickly ushered out of the room by a team of nurses. Alfred watched through the window as they strapped her arms and legs down to the bed. That's only going to make it worse. He cringed as one of them stabbed a syringe of seductive into her hip. As she went limp and drifted off to sleep, Alfred thought.

"_Is she worth it?"_

_**X~X~X**_

(5) What?

(6) My brother

(7) Get off

* * *

**(A/N): Hopefully Chapter 3 will be up sometime soon. It was a little trickier to write. But I still enjoyed it. Don't forget to R&R! :)**


	4. I can see right through you

**(A/N): I _almost_ didn't update today. My sister tried to talk me out of it because it's my birthday. BUT! I had it written... So here you are! **

**P.S. I don't know whether to hate you guys for making my Insomnia worse or thank you for giving me something to do at night.**

* * *

_Chapter 3: I know you don't love that guy 'cause I can see right through you._

"Natalya…."

She opened her eyes. A set of violet ones looked back into hers.

"Vanya..(1)" She looked up at him, blinking.

"I've missed you…" Ivan mumbled in her ear.

"I… I've..." She found it hard to think of words. Everything was fuzzy… There were no details.. Only his eyes, burning with a passion she saw very rarely.

"You can't say it, can you? Even now. When nothing is at stake." His hand caressed her neck gently. Then fingers curled around it, squeezing the life out of her.

Suddenly details and images flooded her senses. They were so sharp and defined that it was blinding. Natalya fought for air, clawing at her brother's arm. It was so quiet. No one to save her. The overwhelming silence crushed her, only broken by her meager struggles and the whispered words coming from Russian above her.

"Eto budet boleznenno.(2)" Ivan repeated over and over. She felt herself fading into black. It was painful.

**X~X~X**

(1) Diminutive of Ivan

(2) This will be painful (see chapter 1)

* * *

_December 8th,__1991 (3)_

Ivan stared down at her with menacing eyes, "Natalya! What is this?"

She steeled herself, "Independence."

He gripped her shoulder, "What do you mean 'Independence'?"

Natalya felt a chill run through her body, "Independence from the Soviet Union, tovarisch.(4)"

A deadly purple aura rolled off Ivan as he tightened his grip on her shoulder, "You have turned you back on the Soviet Union, your family, and me."

She swallowed, "I have to, Ivan. It is what is best for my people." _And me. _They had been 'dating' for decades. He had almost crushed her. Almost destroyed everything that was her. This was her last act. Her last resort. Cutting off all ties with her brother.

Ivan glared down at her, "I have always disagreed with your political opinions, Belarus. But I cannot stop you if you wish your people to starve. This is not what's best for your country."

Her shoulders stiffened as he leaned in close.

"Or for you." He smiled and backed away, "I'll be waiting for you, Natalya."

**X~X~X**

(3) The day Belarus officially succeeded from the USSR

(4) Comrade/brother

* * *

_A week later_

Natalya clutched the porcelain, on her knees, and heaved into the toilet bowl. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She never got sick. Not unless her country was in serious trouble. She looked out her window but everything was looked normal, with people bustling through the streets and children laughing.

She felt her forehead. No fever. She was just so nauseas. Her eyes widened. Pregnant! O, Boža! Could that be it? No.. She calmed herself down. Nations couldn't get pregnant.. She knew that. Why was she so out of sorts and paranoid…?

"_Vozvrashchaĭtesʹ…"_

Go back?

"Who was that?" She screamed, skittering back across the tile floor of her bathroom and looking around hysterically.

"_Vozvrashchaĭtesʹ…"_

"NYET!" Natalya shrieked. She hugged her knees tight to her chest, "Why would I go back to, Ivan?"

"_Potomu chto vy nuzhdaetesʹ v nem…(5)"_

"Nyet…" She whispered, "I don't."

Something flashed before her eyes. Bodies. Hundreds of them. Thousands. The Nazi troops invaded… So many dead. Three million. One third of her population. Natalya let out a strangled sob. And all of her Jews.

Suddenly she was overcome with the memory. It was blurry.. She was lying on cot in a medical tent. Doctors were standing above her, whispering.. God! She couldn't stand the whispering.

"_She was the worst hit of all the Soviet states."_ One of them said to a shadowy man.

"_But will she be alright?"_ The man spoke. Ivan.

"_It depends,"_ The doctor sighed.

Suddenly she felt a hand on hers and Ivan muttered in her ear, _"Come back. We need you, tovarisch."_

Natalya took a huge gulp of air, choking. She was back. She was in her bathroom at home. Not some hospital tent, years in the past. Rocking herself back and forth, she slowly became more lucid. Something was wrong. She felt it coming on again. The visions. She was shaking apart at the seams.

"Nyet!" Natalya shrieked, "Not again!"

She was out of her mind and her body took over. All she knew was that she wanted them to stop. Her hand grabbed one of her knives from the sheath in her garter. She sliced her wrist open. Blood trickled down her arm and dripped onto her floor. Natalya was horrified. The red swirled in her vision. But the images of all those broken bodies faded…

It was over. She was breathing hard, a thin layer of cold sweat covering her body. Natalya got to her knees and swiped a towel off the rack. She quickly pressed it to her arm to stop the blood. Her thoughts made more sense now. Something was definitely wrong.

But why was she seeing these things now? They were in the past. She had put them in the past. She had mourned her citizens that had lost their lives. Natalya moaned in anguish, her eyes welling up with tears, when she realized the only one who could help her.

"_I'll be waiting for you, Natalya."_

Ivan. She was going back to Ivan.

**X~X~X**

(5) Because you need him…

* * *

He smiled down at his little sister, "Welcome back, Natalya."

She glared up at his the best she could until a glazed look appeared in her eyes. A shudder rippled through her body, "Pozhaluĭsta, Ivan."

He smirked, standing up, "You don't know what's wrong with you, do you?"

She bowed her head, shaking it.

Ivan walked around her, "Your country might be alright without Russia, Belarus. But you can't survive without me, Natalya. You're falling apart."

She inhaled sharply.

"You will always be… Like this." Ivan's smile turned even more deadly before he muttered, "Until you can piece yourself back together." He laughed. "And let's face it… You're pathetic. You could never do it yourself. But…" He leaned in, "Who do you know that is always here with you?"

"Y-you…" She mumbled, falling to her knees.

"That's right." Ivan whispered, "I'll help you, Natalya… You just have to do me one little favor."

Natalya nodded, "Chto eto takoe?(6)"

He snickered, backing away from her. His hand whipped across her face and sent her spinning to the floor. She raised herself up on one arm, the other hand clutching at her already swelling cheek. She stared at him in disbelief. Ivan looked down at her, thoroughly amused.

"Meet me in the bedroom."

**X~X~X**

(6) What is it?

* * *

Natalya jerked awake, her eyes flying open. Her hands flew to her neck, trying to fight off Ivan. But his hands weren't there. All she felt was the ribbon she wore around her neck. She ripped it off, breathing heavily. Safe. She was safe. Ivan was not here. She was fine.

Her stomach dropped as she stared passed her empty hospital suite. Ivan was not here. She would not be fine for long. It was only a matter of time. It would get out of control.

She looked around the room seeing it for the first time since she had woken up. It was very empty. No one… Not even..

"Alfred…?" She asked. But as she expected, no one answered. She lay back down. It was an odd feeling. Being lucid enough to realize what's happening but being too cracked to stop it. But… She wasn't seeing things. Or hearing them. Natalya looked down at her right arm. Perhaps it was the drugs that they were pumping into her system through that IV.

Then the whispering started and the bodies started piling up. Or perhaps it would make them worse than ever.

**X~X~X**

Alfred stared at Natalya's sleeping form through the window. It had been at least forty five minutes since they had sedated her, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Her chest rose up and down. She looked so… Peaceful. It was intoxicating. She could have been sleeping of her own accord. Well, if her hands and feet hadn't been strapped down to the bed.

"Sir?"

Alfred turned around to look at the man who had just spoken. He wore a white lab coat, doctor, "Yes?"

"Are you her husband?"

Alfred blushed at tiny bit, "No."

"Boyfriend?"

"No, I'm…" He glanced back at the sleeping woman, "What is it, doctor?"

The doctor sighed, "Perhaps we should speak somewhere else?"

Alfred nodded and followed the man a little ways down the corridor.

"I've been looking through her medical records." The doctor flipped through the papers on his clipboard, "There wasn't much. She's never had any formal tests or vaccinations. And all the family history was in Russian." He shook his head. "It can be incredibly hard to diagnose but the signs are pretty clear. And given the medical records I was able to dig up—"

"Please, doctor." Alfred said. All the rambling this guy was doing it was starting to make him worried, "Just tell me."

"She has schizophrenia, sir." The doctor stated, "It unclear for how long… Possibly years. Perhaps the symptoms didn't get really bad until recently. Or she might have known something was amiss for a while."

Alfred's jaw dropped. Schizophrenia.

"It can be brought on by many things. Most cases are genetic and develop during adolescence but sometimes it's caused by environmental factors…"

Alfred stopped listening. Schizophrenia. His Natalya was sick. No! _Natalya_ was sick. She was not his… He mentally slapped himself before interrupting the doctor.

"Please.. Tell me. Is she going to be alright?"

The doctor nodded, "With time. And we can control it with medication."

Alfred bit his lip. Mortal drugs never affected Nations the same as they did humans… There was no telling what would happen if they gave her a prescription.

"Is there any other way?"

The doctor frowned at him, "Young man… Your girlfriend has a serious illness. She _needs_ to be on medication."

Oh great. Now he thought that Alfred was some anti-medication activist.

"No! I just meant…" He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "This is big. Can I just have a minute with my…" _Friend, _he should say_ friend._ "… girlfriend?"

The doctor nodded, "Of course."

Alfred walked back to the window where he could see Natalya. She was still sleeping. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. His hand rested on the door knob. He could do this, it was just a talk. Not even a talk. She would be sleeping.

His hand wavered, but he forced himself to enter the room. Walking slowly to her bedside, he evaluated everything. Alfred sat down on the edge of her bed and his hand slid into one of her bound hands.

"Hey, Natalya…" He whispered, "I.. I just heard. How long have you known?"

She didn't stir.

He smiled softly, "That's okay. You don't have to tell me right now. I just wanted to tell you… I'm here. I'm here for you." Alfred lifted his other hand to her forehead, brushing away the hair. They had taken her hair pin along with the ribbon. Her face relaxed at little and leaned into the touch.

He gave a watery chuckle and squeezed her fingers reassuringly. Alfred looked quickly behind him. No one was watching.

"I-I can't leave you like this." He looked at the bindings on her extremities. With an unsure look on his face, Alfred loosened them. He freed her hands and feet carefully. Natalya shifted in her sleep, curling into a ball around Alfred and then relaxing. She sighed.

He looked down at her in shock. He barely knew this woman and yet… There they were. Alfred stayed with her until visiting hours ended, stroking her hair and talking to her. She didn't wake up. She didn't even move unless it was to sigh and bury her face in his chest.

When he got up she frowned and whined at little before hugging the warm pillow he had been laying against.

"I'll see you in the morning, Natalya." He hesitated, looking into her face before kissing her gently on the forehead, "I promise." With that he left.

**X~X~X**

The whispering was back but the bodies had faded, turning into rivers of blood. But she ignored it as best she could. Natalya looked at the bindings that had held her down. What was happening? Where was she? She tried to calm herself down. She was in the hospital. She had fainted. That was it.

But she was getting paranoid again. What time was it? The clock read, 3:30 AM. But that couldn't be right. She was never up that early. Or that late. She narrowed her eyes, glaring out at the hallway. And why was it so bright?

"_Maybe you are here for… __eksperimentirovanie._(7)_"_

Her eyes widened, "Nyet…" But the whispering was adamant and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Natalya swung her legs out of bed and stood. Part of her knew that she was here because of what Ivan did to her. But all of her wanted to leave. She walked slowly over to the door, her hand hovering on the knob when she saw something.

A flash of blood streaked the door, staining everything red. She bit back a scream. If someone heard her now… It would be over.

"_Jak vy mahli heta dapuscić?_(8)_"_

She looked behind her in horror. A dead man begged her. His eyes were sunken and his face rotten. He was wearing striped clothes, a yellow star pinned to his chest.

"Prabač mianie (9)…" She felled her knees, head in hands, and sobbed, repeating it over and over, "Prabač mianie. Prabač mianie. Prabač mianie...!"

It haunted her. Every day. All those lives lost. All that blood spilled. Her head snapped up and she was able to see past the dead man for a moment. _Blood. _That was it. Natalya rolled up her sleeve. The cut was still prominent and barely scabbed over. If she could just find something.

Belarus slid her hands down her garter. Nothing but an empty sheath. Nothing in her bra. She checked her hair. They had taken her pin and… She pouted. Her hair ribbon. Then suddenly she spotted the combat boots she wore everywhere. She crawled toward them, ignoring the sickening whispering.

"Stop!" She commanded them, reaching into her right boot. Yet another one of her spare knives, and the last one available to her, appeared in her hand. She looked at it in reverie before her gaze moved back to the Jew pleading with her.

"I really am sorry." The knife slashed across the cut. The hallucinations faded away as the blood spilled from her arm. But they would be back. She tried not to think about it, holding her sheets to the same cut yet again.

The bleeding stopped. Natalya looked at the clock, trusting the time it gave this time. 4:07 AM. She didn't have much time. She laced up her boots, slipping the now clean knife into the sheath in her garter. Snarling at the hair that kept falling in her face, she grabbed the ribbon that had been around her neck and tied her hair up with it.

Natalya stopped for a second, trying to the think. What was she doing? She wasn't quite sure anymore. She didn't have a plan. But whatever it was… she had move fast. Then she remembered._ Ivan_. He was the only person who could keep her hallucinations at bay. He was the only one who could help her.

Russia. He would be in Russia by now. Then that's where she would go. Natalya made for the door again. But… She looked back at the blooded, wrinkled bed. What about Alfred? _America_. And he wasn't important. Natalya bit her lip. Still… She owned him a debt. He had brought her here and stayed with her. The absolute least she could do was write him a note.

Locating a pen and piece of paper quickly, she made a conscious effort to write using the Latin alphabet instead of Cyrillic. She scrawled down a quick message and signed it. Setting her pen down, she read back over it. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked away, placing it on her pillow.

She had signed it _'Natalya'_. She shook her head, peering out the window. There was no one there. Natalya took a deep breath and didn't look back. With that she left.

**X~X~X**

(7) Experimentation

(8) How could you let this happen?

(9) I'm sorry/Forgive me

* * *

**(A/N): Just a little side note. I do not pretend to know anything about Schizophrenia. I did my research but if I get something wrong please don't hate me. I would appreciate if you told me though! :)**

**Disclaimer:****I do not own Hetalia or the characters. They are merely my playthings.**


	5. I am… I am…

**(A/N): Just another 'thank you' to everyone reading this story! You guys are amazing.**

* * *

_Chapter 4: I am… I am…_

_**X~X~X**_

Alfred slumped moodily in his chair. Arthur had _made_ him come to the meeting that day. But thankfully he had already done his presentation, so he was leaving as soon as they broke for lunch. Uneasiness squirmed in his stomach as he looked at the two empty chairs across the table. Ivan had already been sent back to Russia and suspended until the next conference. But as Natalya had requested, there were no criminal charges brought up against him.

Anger filled his mind. The Russian could go back to doing the same thing. Belarus and Russia were so close together and there was no one there to stop him. The tension in Alfred's shoulders dissipation just a little. No. She wouldn't be leaving the country until the doctors released her. And given her condition… He bit his lip. That was an awful thing to think. But until the doctors were sure she was alright… She would be safe.

Arthur looked at his younger brother out of the corner of his eye. It was bad. He could tell. He had never seen Alfred so distraught about anything. This was a bad idea. Alfred might think that the girl was worth it, but Arthur would always remember what she was like. A vindictive bitch that had gone to extreme lengths to break up Katya and Ivan, only to start dating him a week later. Her brother. Arthur had to stop this before it got out of control. Before his little brother got hurt.

Britain sighed and banged his gavel, breaking up a petty argument between Basch and Roderiech, "You two can go back to squabbling after lunch."

All the Nations stood at once, shoving each other out the door, and Alfred was at the front of the pack. Arthur started after him until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Let him go, mon amour." Francis whispered in his ear, "He needs to make his own mistakes. Take chances. Like you." Arthur heard the smile in his voice and leaned back into his boyfriend's touch.

"Yes… I suppose you are right." He chuckled, "I certainly took a chance with you, didn't I?"

Francis pulled away, "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Arthur turned around to face the man, "Well, I'm just saying that things with you could have ended up very badly indeed. I did used to hate you."

The Frenchman scowled at him, "Well, I hate _you_!"

"Right oh! You want to go there? You didn't hate me last night when we were—"

They argued for minutes until, neither of them would admit who started it, they started kissing in a passionate display of affection. Mindless groping and hands flew everywhere, touching everything. Luckily enough for both of them, all the other countries had already left. Expect for a small man who squeaked uncomfortably, whispering, "Maman! Papa!" Before he dashed out the door, clutching his polar bear tightly.

**X~X~X**

Alfred exited the UN building, only having to ask for directions twice from some very helpful and _very_ British employees. He breathed the city air, and while it wasn't like home, it was nice. He felt slightly guilty. He had promised Natalya that he would see her first thing in the morning. And although she had been completely unconscious for it, he still hated breaking a promise.

He stood on the curb and suddenly had no idea what to do. He hadn't ordered a car to take him anywhere. Pulling out his cell phone, he realized that it was dead. No way to contact anyone. He sighed. So it was either catch a cab or walk inside and try to find a phone? His eyes widened at the thought. He was _not_ going back in that building!

Alfred walked quickly down the street, trying to flag down a cab. But it was impossible. He kept missing them because they were all black. He snorted. Yellow cabs were some much easier to spot.

Running to catch a black car that turned out to just belong to a normal civilian, Alfred stumbled past a shop that caught his attention. He grinned. It was clique and cheesy and he was _so_ going to do it!

Alfred laughed, ducking into little the flower shop, "Natalya is going to _hate_ this."

**X~X~X**

He hummed a happy tone, walking quickly through the hospital. Alfred had grinned all the way there. It had thoroughly freaked out the cab driver. So much so that he had driven on the left side of the road! Alfred would have been afraid for his safety if he hadn't been in such a hurry. Or was that one of those British things?

He stepped out of the elevator, flower pot in hand. It was the only one that had caught his eye. It was a silky light purple and exotic looking.(1) He would never admit it to anyone, but it had reminded him of Natalya.

Alfred walked up to the nurse's station, "Natalya Arlovskaya's room please."

The women nodded and clicked around on the computer before looking up at him, "I'm sorry, sir, but she's not here."

The smiled slipped off his face, "Excuse me?"

"She left last night."

He blanched, "That's not possible. Did she check out? Did the doctor release her?

She looked down at the computer screen, frowning.

"Did someone take her?"

The nurse frowned, "Just a moment, sir." She picked up a telephone to make an urgent call.

Alfred didn't wait. She was missing. How was this possible? How could they let something like this happen? She was supposed to be safe. He jogged all the way to her room. It was empty. No one had even touched it. There was a note lying on the pillow, little droplets of blood stained the white paper. He ran to it, holding it with trembling fingers.

'_Thank you for everything. You have been most kind. I am sorry to leave like this, but it's gotten worse. I need him. Goodbye.'_

_~Natalya_

The flower pot slipped out of his hand and shattered on the floor. Bits of ceramic and soil flew everywhere. She was gone.

**X~X~X**

(1) It was an orchid. Alfred is clueless when it comes to flowers.

* * *

"You have to talk to him, mon amour." Francis said to him.

Arthur turned around to look at his little brother. Alfred was sitting on the couch in the other room, distraught. He hadn't spoken since they had picked him up from the hospital.

"Where do you think she went?" Arthur whispered.

Francis buried his face in his lover's shoulder, "I don't know. Only he would."

Britain sighed, nodding, "I just… Don't understand it. He's become increasingly frustrating!" He heard a rustling behind him and rolled his eyes. Ever since he and Francis had started dating things had gotten weird in his house.

"Oh… I'm very sorry for you, amigo (2)!" Antonio smiled at him, "Would a tomato~ make you feel better?"

Very weird.

Arthur scowled and quickly dodged the red fruit that the Spaniard had chucked at him, "Why are you two even here?" He glared at Antonio and his taciturn other half.

"Francis and I are friends!" Tonio threw another tomato at the Frenchman who caught it with one hand, "And Roderiech wanted to teach you how to cook some Austrian delicacies."

Arthur furrowed his bushy eyebrow, "I don't need help, thank you."

Antonio gave him a half smile, nudging Roderiech with his elbow. The Austrian blushed before returning to whatever book he was reading. But then he looked up at Arthur, uncharacteristically serious, "But what about this chica(3)?"

"Natalya."

The Spaniard's eyes widened, as though he was hearing it for the first time. Considering he paid about as much attention as Feliciano did, it was not surprising.

"Apparently she left." Arthur shook his head, "Bitch…"

Antonio locked eyes with Francis, who stiffened. Tonio nodded with a frown.

"Cheri(4)?" Francis swallowed before addressing his boyfriend again, "Do you know about… Ivan?"

**X~X~X**

(2) Friend

(3) Girl

(4) Darling

* * *

Alfred's head fell into his hands. Why? Why would leave him? He winced as he felt a twinge in his heart. She left. _Twinge_. All that blood on her sheets. _Twinge_. Her bindings loose, the ones he had undone. _Twinge_. 'I need him'. _Twinge_.

Guilt rose up and filled his stomach. His fault. He had let her free. He had let her go. And where was she? Where was she now? Was she safe? His fist pounded on the table, making the used tea cups rattle in their saucers.

What did it matter? She was _gone_. And she wasn't coming back to him. She was with… Him.

"Alfred…?"

He turned his head, staring down England with a burning gaze.

"I-I.. I.. Never mind!" Arthur backed up until Francis smacked him on the butt. He squeaked and fell back into the room.

"What is it, Iggy?" Alfred asked in a tired voice, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Well, we just wanted…" He gestured behind him, but the two thirds of the bad touch trio that had coaxed him into this were nowhere to be seen. He sighed, "_I_ just wanted to know if you are alright. Are you?"

Alfred stood up angrily, "I'm fine! I'm great! Fantastic!"

His brother looked at him.

Alfred let out a loud frustrated roar, "I'm just mad at her! Why him? Why does she _always_ go back to him? He treats her like shit! A she just lies there and takes it. No she doesn't! She _actively_ goes back to him! She says she needs him." He looked up at his brother, "I thought she was better than that. I thought she was different. But clearly I was wrong."

Arthur cleared his throat, his eyes downcast, "No, Alfred. I was wrong."

Alfred looked up at him, "No, Iggy. You were absolutely right." He fell back on the paisley couch, "You are always right. She isn't worth it."

Arthur mustered a nervous laugh, "Any other day, America," He sat down on the couch next to him, "Any other day I would be rejoicing at the words you just said."

Alfred snorted and put his hands behind his head, "I know you would. What's different about today?"

The Brit sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself.

His younger brother sat up, a confused expression on his face, "What is it, dude?"

It was now or never. Arthur opted for now, "You were right, Al. She is our problem. And she needs help. I don't know where she would have gone but… I can guarantee you that she's in trouble."

Alfred looked at him for a second before he realized what he meant, "Ivan."

**X~X~X**

"Please keep your seat backs and tray tables in the upright and lock position. The captain is preparing for takeoff." A cheery flight attendant's voice rang over the intercom. Natalya was sweating as she prepared for one of the most painful flights she had ever sat through. Every passenger seat was filled with a dead body, staring at her with their sad expressions.

But worse yet. She felt sick to her stomach. They had taken her last knife. She had nothing left to protect herself with. She bit her lip as she watched a flight attendant move throughout the cabin. There was one last option that she had. But she hated it. It was a band aid. The fix never lasted for long and when the visions and voices did came back… They were worse than ever.

"Ma'am, would you like something to drink?" The women in absurdly high heels asked her.

Natalya swallowed back her fear. Maybe it would last long enough.

"Vodka." She spoke in a weak voice, "Lots of it."

* * *

**(A/N): Short Chapter... Yes, I know. But the next one is really long.**


	6. I'll track you down, girl

**(A/N): Again I just want to thank everyone for reading including my amazing reviewer 'annablink'. You guys are awesome!**

**Also I just wanted to point out that my knowledge of Russian and Belarusian is very limited. All of the interactions between Ivan/Natalya and Natalya/Katya would be in Russian or some combination of other languages. But for everyone's sake, and to save myself from embarrassment, I wrote them in English.**

* * *

_Chapter 5: If you go a million miles away I'll track you down girl._

**X~X~X**

Alfred stood up shakily, stepping past the Englishman, "Ivan. She's going to Ivan."

Arthur glanced after his little brother, "What are you talking about, Al?"

"Natalya!" Alfred shouted, bursting through the kitchen doors, "Oh…" He looked curiously at the three men standing front of him who had clearly been eaves dropping.

"Hello, Francis. Tonio. Roddy." He nodded and tried to move passed them.

"Hold on." Francis put a hand on Alfred's chest to stop him, "What do you mean she's going back to Ivan?"

"Russia. She went back to Russia. She said she needs him." Alfred shook his head, "I don't know why… But in the note she left me—"

"She left you a note?" Antonio interjected, "What did it say?"

Alfred frowned, trying to remember, "It was really short but…" He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket.

Francis snatched it out of his hands.

'_Thank you for everything. You have been most kind. I am sorry to leave like this, but it's gotten worse. I need him. Goodbye.'_

_~Natalya_

He looked up and passed the note to Roderiech. Austria read it quickly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"What is she talking about?" He asked Alfred, "'But it's gotten worse.'?"

"Oh." Alfred bit his lip, "That's private… I don't think she'd like you to know…"

"You've barely met the girl and you know. Tell us!" Roderiech snapped at him.

Alfred's eyes flicked over to Arthur who nodded, "She has Schizophrenia."

Roderiech grew pale and looked over to Antonio.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Francis asked, worried.

"Ja…" Roderiech answered, "You were."

"What is happening?" Alfred asked, close to pulling out his hair.

Roderiech looked weak, remembering something. Antonio placed his hand on his elbow to steady him.

"It… happened to me." Roderiech began, "The same thing happened to me after the fall of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. It shattered me. And it wasn't because I loved Eliza… It was because I was broken. Only half of my former self. That is what it is like for Natalya except…" He shuddered and Tonio pulled him closer, "Except much worse."

He looked up at Alfred, "She does need him. He is the only thing that keeps her grounded; the only thing that keeps her together. She's unraveling. Without him… Well, I assume you know."

Alfred did know. He remembered her screaming at him, seeing invisible things.

Roderiech shook his head, "There is nothing you can do. She needs to heal."

Alfred was shaking with anger, "She _can't_ heal. He's hurting her."

"There is nothing you can—"

"There is something." Antonio spoke quietly.

"Anton!" Roderiech shot at him furiously.

"No… He deserves to know." Antonio looked up at Alfred, "She needs someone to help her put herself back together. It was Ivan because he was there for it. But… It doesn't have to be him."

Alfred blinked, "Someone… To help her pick up the pieces?" He dashed out of the kitchen and into the foyer.

Arthur and Francis ran after him while Toni held Roderiech close. The Austrian looked shocked, trembling at the thought of going through it all again.

Alfred flew up a flight of stairs and disappeared into a room.

"What are you doing?" Arthur called after his brother.

"Getting my passport!"

**X~X~X**

Natalya bit her tongue to keep from screaming out. The dead surrounded her in a terrifying, never ending circle of whispering and pleading. They wanted her help, but there wasn't anything she could do. They were dead, they should be gone. But they were with her at all times. Haunting her.

She reached for that little bottle she had been clinging to ever since takeoff and downed the last of her vodka. The ice had melted and diluted it; it was almost entirely water. She coughed. Rubbing her arms to keep warm, Natalya pressed the button to call the flight attendant.

When the buzz of the alcohol wore off she would be completely defenseless against the dead, without her knives. The smell of the vodka was already making it worse. It smelled like him. His voice whispered in her ear.

"_Eto budet boleznenno…(1)"_

"Što?" She asked loudly.

"I said 'Can I help you with anything, miss?'." The flight attendant's bright, fake smile faltered as she repeated herself.

"Da…" She said shakily, "Another vodka, please."

The woman looked at the numerous tiny bottles that littered her tray table, "Are you sure that's a good idea? We will be landing in St. Petersburg shortly."

"Nyet… I suppose I am fine." Natalya waved off, trying not to look at her bloody clothing and sunken eye sockets. She had turned into a dead person walking. Like all the rest of them.

Her fist clamped around the empty bottle tightly. The whispering pounded in her head. It was over. The dead would claim her as one of them and spill her blood on the… Blood.

Natalya's frantic, terrified gaze fell upon the bottle clenched tightly in her hand. Glass. She realized that she was either having slightly lucid moment, or was completely gone. Quickly she slipped the bottle into her sleeve and stood up.

Making her was through the cabin of the plane, dead faces stared up at her. Natalya ran the rest of the way to the bathroom and locked the door behind her quickly. She closed her eyes and wept silently before pulling out the bottle.

She contemplated the clear glass and green label until she heard the whispering again. It was louder and echoing around the small room. Natalya smashed the bottle on the sink. Little shards of glass flew everywhere, but she ignored them, picking up the largest piece. The glass sliced through her flesh easily and the blood chased after it. The scarlet poured out of her arm and she sighed, letting her eyes fall shut.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be arriving in St. Petersburg shortly. Please prepare for landing."

She would see him soon. Ivan. Her visions of nightmares would stop. They would be replaced by real nightmares.

**X~X~X**

****(1) _This will be painful…_

* * *

"You can't be serious!" Arthur yelled at his younger brother, "Russia? You are going to Russia? Right now?"

"Dude… Sorry about missing tea time, but yeah. I am."

Britain's eyebrows furrowed and his nostrils flared. He opened his mouth to shout some sense into the young man but he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Alfred's head popped into view from over the stair railing, "Do you guys know where Ivan lives?"

The hand on Arthur's shoulder squeezed reassuringly as the man attached to it spoke. "He lives in St. Petersburg. Oui, Arthur?"

The Brit ground his teeth, hating that his boyfriend was siding with his brother on this, "Whatever, Alfred. Have fun dying." He shrugged off Francis's hand and stormed off into his bedroom.

Alfred appeared a moment later, carrying a duffel bag, and frowned, "Where did Iggy go?"

Francis sighed, "He just needs to calm down. He'll be fine."

Alfred shrugged, checking the gun strapped to his hip, "St. Petersburg?"

Francis nodded, "St. Petersburg."

**X~X~X**

Natalya stepped off the plane, wide-eyed and bewildered, and scanned the crowd. A trickle of blood dripped down her arm but no one noticed. Red and black danced around the corner of her vision but she could see into reality. At least for the time being.

But no amount of alcohol and cutting could stop the memories from flooding her brain.

"_What are you doing?" Natalya, a small child, asked her older sister._

_Katya looked up from where she was between her brother's legs with a panicked, terrified look in her eyes, "Get out of here!" She hissed, wiping the corner of her mouth on her sleeve. Natalya ran as fast as her small legs would carry her._

_Hours later Katya had come to find her. She was curled into a tiny ball and jumped when she heard her older sister's footsteps._

"_Natalya? Sister?"_

"_Get out of here!" Natalya yelled up at her. Katya's eyes were red rimmed from crying. The little girl's lower lip trembled, "Are you okay…?"_

_Katya sniffed, wiping away a tear, and forced a smile, "I am fine. But… Sorry about what you saw earlier."_

_Natalya nodded, her tiny gray eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "I don't know what it was."_

_Katya bit back a sob, looking at her little sister, "I hope you never have to find out, sister. I will do everything I can to make sure it never happens to you."_

_The little girl had no idea why her sister was so upset but she smiled and patted her arm reassuringly, "It will be alright. Do you want to see something I learned yesterday?"_

_Katya gave her a watery smile and nodded. Natalya jumped excitedly to her feet and pulled four knives out from under her dress. She took quick aim and threw them one by one into the trunk of a tree. Her older sister clapped and tackled her lightly, eliciting a giggle from the small child._

"_That was great, Natalya! Where ever did you learn something like that?"_

"_Big brother!" Natalya squealed, not seeing how her sister went stiff and her face pale, "He spent all yesterday with me and taught me!" She scrambled up and brought the knives back to show Ukraine, "Look! He wrote words on them!"_

_Katya took the knives with trembling fingers and Natalya plopped down on the grass next to her, laying her head on her older sister's shoulder, "I don't know how to read yet… But recognize that word!" She pointed to the blade of one knife, "That's big brother's name! Ivan." She looked at her sister's face, "What else does it say, Katya?"_

_The elder sister felt ice water in her veins and her heartbeat grew irregular as she read the knives. The inscriptions were all the same. On all of them._

"_Katya?"_

_She was roused from her thoughts by the high voice, "Yes?"_

"_What else does it say?"_

_Katya bit her lip, tears threatening to start up again, "It… It says.. 'I love you and want the best for you. Always. ~Ivan'." She looked down at the little girl and kissed the top of her head. Natalya sighed and hugged her big sister close._

_Katya stared down at the knives, reading what they actually said, 'I love you. I will be waiting for you to love me back. ~Ivan'. She bit back a scream as she held her little sister. Nothing. Nothing would happen to her. Not as long as she could do anything about it._

But years later Natalya realized what had been happening. That was when she started breaking them up. She couldn't see her sister do that anymore, even if it meant giving herself to Ivan instead. She knew what others said and called her, 'Jealous' 'Home wrecking whore' 'Disgusting incestual pervert'. Her brother. They actually thought that she and Katya would love their brother like that by choice.

The idea made her stomach turn, but not as much as the prospect of going back to her brother on purpose. She could have escaped this time. But to what kind of life? Living in fear of those visions? That was no kind of life for her. But with Ivan… There was no guarantee that she would have a life at all.

**X~X~X**

Alfred stepped off the plane in St. Petersburg and looked at his watch. There was no telling what kind of head start she had had on him. But there was no time to think about it. He ran out of the airport as fast as the humans would allow him.

This whole situation was so familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Running… Trying to stop someone he cared for…

"_Wait!" He yelled, his tiny infantile legs falling far short of the long ones belonging to his older brother, "Wait! Iggy! Big brother! Don't leave me!"_

_Britain looked behind him and smiled, "Don't worry." He put a large hand on his brother's head, "I will always be here for you, America. You will be fine." He tousled Alfred hair before walking away. Alfred watched him get on the ship. He watched his older brother wave as he sailed back to England. He wasn't there for him. He didn't see Arthur again until it was already too late. The revolution was beginning._

Alfred gritted his teeth. Stupid sentimentality. It wasn't important. He needed to be the hero. He had figured out how to take care of himself then. Now he could help Natalya do the same.

**X~X~X**

Natalya fell into her brother's house. It opened into a long ornate hall. It was largely empty, with only paintings and tapestries littering the walls, but at the opposite end sat a large throne. He was always one for a dramatic presentation.

Her footsteps echoed throughout the hall as she approached to throne. The walls were smeared with the blood of all the slaughtered Russian soldiers. Their names swirled together and moved in the air with her. So many. There were so many… How could she remember them all? After years and years the memories were still so fresh.

She remembered the walk down that hallway. She had taken it so many times in so many different ways, but it was always for same reason. _Help_. It was always the same. The visions would start fading as soon as she stepped foot in the door and were reduced to nothing when she reached the end and set eyes on her brother, high up on his throne. But this time was different. They got worse with every step she took. Darker and more black. They consumed her. She fell to her knees in front of him, clutching her head.

Ivan watched his sister, with her bowed head and tears in her eyes. He smiled, "It took you longer to get here than I expected."

There was no answer, only a soft whimper.

He stood up and walked to down the steps to her, "Did you hear me? Answer!"

Natalya cried out, clawing at her head, "Make them stop! Make them stop, Ivan!"

He narrowed his eyes, his expression stony, "Look at me." She did. He saw the tortured look in her eyes. He could see the visions reflected in those irises. They were still there and didn't vanish as usual. If he couldn't get rid of them…

"Why aren't you helping? You always make them go away, Ivan!" She screamed. The bodies piled up higher, filling the room.

His nostrils flared and her grabbed her wrist, purple rolling off him in waves, "What did you do, Natalya? Who is it? Who has replaced me?" He jerked her around before realizing that she was completely gone mentally. Throwing her from him, she fell onto the harsh unforgiving stone floor and moaned.

Ivan's head whipped around, "What was that?"

She moaned again. He walked over to her and put his ear to her mouth.

"… A-Alfred…" She sighed before passing out.

Ivan's violet eyes widened and his jaw hardened, "America…" He ran up the stairs and behind his elaborate throne. He yanked his bloody pipe from the elevated place of honor it had, "America!"

* * *

**Disclaimer:****I do not own ANYTHING. Ever. At all.**


	7. Boom Chicka Boom Chicka

**(A/N): Sorry about how late this one is. I'm having trouble with the ending and I've been filming Cosplay videos all week. Again if you have any questions or comments please leave a review or PM me. Hold on... Only two more chapters after this.**

* * *

_Chapter 6: Boom Chicka Boom Chicka Boom Chicka Boom Chicka_

**X~X~X**

Rage clouded Ivan's mind and he gripped his pipe tightly. America. America had taken _his _Natalya away from him. _His_ little sister. _His_ lover in the night. Natalya had left him. But she had come back, he assured himself. She would always come back. He walked down the steps slowly, watching his sister's unconscious body rise and fall with each breath.

Ivan chuckled. What an absurd thought. Natalya could never last without him. No matter what had happened. America might have replaced him in her heart. Ivan knelt down and pushed his little sister's skirt up to show the bruises he was so proud of. But it wasn't her heart that controlled things. It was her mind. And he would always control that.

A little droplet of red caught his attention. Her white sleeve was speckled with blood. Anger flickered across his face as her ripped her left sleeve open. Cuts. She was cutting. Her replacement for him. The only other thing that kept her hallucinations at bay. His fingers wrapped tightly around the shaft of his pipe, purple rolling off him in livid waves, and he struck her across the cheek with the cold metal. Blood tarnished her pale face and his pipe. If she had not already been unconscious, then it would have knocked her out.

"America?" He spat through his teeth, "Why him? That little punk doesn't know his ass from that atrocity to the noble colors of white, blue, and red he calls a flag!" He gripped her chin and pulled it up to face him; the blood trickled down stained his gloves red for the thousandth time, "Natalya! That boy has nothing to offer you! We are a proud people! They are slobs that whine every time their capitalist government does anything without their knowledge! And yet they stand behind that stupid idiot that is always claiming to be the 'hero' and—"

Ivan's violent violet eyes went wide before a mischievous grin spread across his face, "Oh sister…" He chastised her unconscious body and shook his head, letting her chin slip out of his fingers. Her skull hit the hard floor with a sickeningly solid thud, "You overplayed your hand this time. You are always so proud of that ability to hide your emotions… But I can read you like a book!" He stood and strode away her, "The 'hero'! You have the 'hero' wrapped around your little finger! Don't you?" Ivan looked back at her body as though expecting an answer.

"He'll be coming after you. He'll be looking for you. I wouldn't be surprised if he was already in the country." He laughed, "He has no idea what he's in for."

Natalya made a small noise, but remained completely still and unaware.

"But don't worry!" He assured her like she was actually worried. Like she could actually hear him, "He'll find you!" Ivan's lip curled up and he swung his pipe through the air for practice, "He'll just find me first."

**X~X~X**

Alfred's eyes widened. He had been to Russia before, many times for some diplomatic discussions and for some not so diplomatic ones. But that had always been in Ivan's place of business in Moscow. This was his personal home. But it didn't look so personal. It looked like a palace.

He walked up the steps gingerly, truly nervous about something for the first time in a while. She was in there. With Ivan. And they would both be furious to see him. Maybe this was a bad idea… His older brother's voice ring in his ears.

"_You never,_ever_want to mess with Russia."_

"_Whatever, Alfred. Have fun dying."_

Alfred stopped in his tracks. What was he doing here?

"_Is it worth it?_

"_Is _she _worth_ _it?"_

Alfred gritted his teeth. When Arthur had asked him that he hadn't been sure, but now he was. There had been nothing he had ever been so sure of in his life.

"Yes. She is." His hand reached for Colt .45 on his hip that he had snuck through in his luggage. Alfred ran up the remaining steps and burst through the doors.

"Ivan! I'm here to get—" He stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes didn't quite understand what he was seeing for a spilt second. Then it was all too clear. His breath hitched in his throat, fear pumping through his veins. He could only say one thing.

"W-Why...?"

**X~X~X**

"Is he gone?"

Francis looked behind him. His boyfriend walked casually forward to look out the window with him.

"Oui." Francis sighed, avoiding Arthur's gaze, "He should be there soon. You've been in there longer than you thought."

Arthur shook his head, running his fingers through his tangled hair, "No. I knew how long it had been."

Francis stared forward coldly. This was the first time that he had been truly anger with his lover. Britain leaned on his shoulder. Francis shrugged him off and walked away.

"Pet…" Arthur frowned, his bushy eyebrows knitting together, "What's wrong? Did he get off alright?"

Francis sat down on the couch, still not looking at him, "He's fine, Arthur. He would have been better if his brother had been there."

Arthur snorted, plopping down on the couch next to him, "Is that what this is about? Because I didn't go see him off on a suicide mission? You know he'll come back with flying colors. He'll have gotten the girl and stopped the bad guy. He'll come back a hero." He shrugged, smiling.

"And yet all you could say was 'Have fun dying'? What kind of brother says that?" Francis snarled, turning away from him.

Arthur looked at him in silence for a long time before speaking in quiet voice, "… he doesn't care what I say, Francis…"

"He cares more that you think!" He stood up angrily and stalked to the door, "And _you_ should care what you say, _Arthur_. Words have meaning." He left.

Britain watched his boyfriend leave through a numb haze. He did. He did care.

"_Iggy! I've missed you so much, big brother!" A pint sized America ran up and hugged his knees._

_Arthur laughed and picked up the child, "I've missed you too, Al!" He threw Alfred over his shoulder and walked them up to their house in the Colonies._

"_Right oh! Have you been doing all your chores?"_

"_Yep."_

"_And your homework?"_

"_Yep."_

"_Brushing your teeth?"_

_"…"_

_Britain chuckled, "Then that's the first thing we do when we get inside!" The little boy groaned, but smiled._

"_Now remember! Dental care is very important. That's why everyone in my country…"_

Arthur frowned. But there was nothing he could do. He didn't stay, he couldn't. Alfred hated him for leaving. And now _he_was gone. It was too late.

**X~X~X**

"N-Natalya…?" Alfred walked down the foyer in horror. It was her. She was sitting on a large gold throne, her head lolled to one side. Blood ran down her chest in harsh red streaks. Alfred ran to her, his footsteps echoing in the silent hall.

"Natalya!" He leapt up the few stairs and onto the dais. Kneeling down in front of her, he lifted her chin up so he could look into her face. Her eyes were closed but he could hear her breathing. Her bloody shirt had been ripped open. Carefully he shifted the torn fabric and he eyes widened in shock as he scrambled back, reading the letters craved into her pale flesh.

'IVAN'.

He heard a dark chuckle behind him and he whipped around.

"Did you like my handy work?" Ivan asked. He twirled one of Belarus's knives, still slicked with blood, between his fingers, "I thought it might be dramatic… But my name. That sends a statement, Da? I own her. And I always will." He looked at Alfred's horror struck face, "Oh and… SURPRISE!"

Ivan swung his pipe at Alfred's head. Alfred rolled out of the way, pulling out his gun and taking aim at him quickly.

"Put it down or I will be forced to—"

Russia took another swing at his head as Alfred ducked under his arm and jabbed him in the stomach. Ivan stumbled back and grinned, "You've gotten much better, pig."

"And you've gotten slower!" Alfred went inside his guard again, cocking his gun. Ivan chuckled and Alfred felt something sharp pierce him the back. Natalya's knife. His breath hitched and everything slowed down. He was falling, the cold pain chasing him down to floor.

"Nyet… It's you who have gotten slow." Ivan looked down at him, holding the knife again, "I know it's not customary to stab someone in the back but then again… I hardly think it's fair to use guns in close range." Ivan kicked away his Colt .45.

Alfred was drowning. Drowning a pool of pain and blood. But no. He had to get up. Alfred tried to move but his limbs just flopped around weakly.

Ivan laughed at him, "A 'hero' reduced to this… Well then, hero." Ivan leaned down close, face to face with him, "What should I do now? I would love to carve you up like I did Natalya." Alfred spat in his face.

A purple wave rolled off Ivan's shoulders as he stood up straight and wiped his face, "Or maybe. I should let you watch." A large hand reached down and grabbed a fistful of Alfred's blonde hair. Alfred cried out as Ivan dragged him across the hall and leaned him against a pillar.

"Wouldn't you like that, America? To watch? That's all you ever want! You want to take something that doesn't belong to you! Well now look! Look what's happened!" Ivan stepped back, looking down at Alfred who was doubled over from the pain of being moved. He chuckled and held up the objects in each hand, "Should I use the pipe… Or the knife?"

Alfred grunted, trying to stand again.

"The knife it is!" Ivan turned around to face his little sister, "Oh Natalya…" He twisted the blade of the knife so it shone in the light, "If you had only stayed." Even through the dried and fresh blood the words engraved in the metal were still legible, "If only you hadn't strayed. We would still be together. We would be happy. I make you happy."

'_I love you. I will be waiting for you to love me back. ~Ivan'_

He had waited for so long. Ivan brought the blade of the knife down to her pale, bruised and bloodied face. He was doing this because he loved her. It was what was best for her. The metal pierced her cheek, a bead of red dripping down slowly. Ivan smiled, "Ya lyublyu tebya. (1)"

He felt the scarf around his neck tighten and jerk his head back. The knife flew out of his hand as he was dragged to the floor. Above him Alfred's menacing gaze bored into him. His glasses had fallen off and a trickle of blood smeared his forehead. His brown bomber jacket was ripped where Ivan had stabbed him, the blood staining the leather darker.

Alfred grinned evilly as he stepped onto Russia's chest and pulled the scarf tighter. Ivan clawed at the fabric and Alfred's legs, but nothing was stopping him. He thrashed around but darkness closed in on the edges of his vision. His movements became weaker and Alfred leaned in to whisper to him what Ivan had been denying for years.

"She's not yours and she never will be."

Ivan's body went limp, but Alfred's grip didn't loosen. It would be so easy. He could kill him. Right there. In one second everybody's problems would be gone. But he heard a noise behind him. A moan. Natalya was waking up.

Alfred let go of Ivan's scarf and stumbled over to her, images becoming fuzzy and hard to make out, "Natalya?" He fell down at the foot of the throne, struggling to stay conscious.

She opened her eyes to see a man, peering up at her from the ground, "Alfred!" She gasped and dropped to the floor next to him, "Alfred…" She smiled, her eyes shining with tears, "I knew you would come… I'm so sorry…" She held his face in her hand, stroking his bloody cheek.

He smiled up at her, blinking away the darkness, "I'll always come for you, Natalya."

She buried her face in his chest, hugging him close. She felt something wet. Pulling away her hand slowly, she saw it slicked with blood, "Alfred…" Natalya rolled him over in her lap so she could see his wound, "Alfred! What happened?"

"It's okay, baby." His smiled up at her dreamily and gripped her hand, "You'll be okay."

"No!" She looked at him in panic, "Alfred! Pozhaluĭsta!(2) Please don't leave me! I need you! I need you to stay! Stay with me…"

He nodded, drifting off to a peaceful sleep, "Anything for you, Natalya…" She was safe. He had saved her. Nothing else mattered.

**X~X~X**

(1) I love you.

(2) Please

* * *

**(A/N): You guys have been so great. :)**


	8. The pathway to your heart

**(A/N): Just the epilogue left after this. This has been fun.**

* * *

_Chapter 7: Trust me when I say I know the pathway to your heart_

**X~X~X**

Alfred's eyelids fluttered open. The smell of antiseptic assaulted his nostrils and he wrinkled his nose against it. His vision was blurry but he realized it was because his glasses were gone. Paper rustled to his right. Alfred moved his head with difficulty and saw a man hiding behind a newspaper sitting by his bedside.

"Hey, Igs."

The paper flew down as Arthur sat forward, shock and relief flooding his expression, "Alfred! You are awake! I—" He cut himself off, trying to maintain the calm control he had always had.

He sat back in his chair, his gaze returning to the paper, "I'm glad you are alright." His bushy eyebrows knit together and his eyes flicked over to Alfred again, "You are fine, right?"

Alfred nodded. His side still hurt, but it would recover soon. His mortal body was never disabled for long unless his country was in trouble.

Arthur smirked, "I will have to tell Francis that I was right. I'm always right."

Alfred chuckled, "You keep telling yourself that." He looked at his older brother. His stubble was evident and his shirt was filthy. He might as well of had cartoon stink lines coming off of him, "And you look as if you weren't too sure of it yourself."

Arthur sniffed, hiding his face behind the newspaper, "I was positive. You are fine." He turned a page and muttered, "Flying colors, got the girl, stopped the bad guy, _and _a hero. I was completely right."

His little brother smiled before his words sunk in, "Natalya!" Alfred shot out of bed, "Natalya! Oh god, is she okay?" His hand was already trying to rip out his IV when Britain stopped him.

"Alfred! Calm down… You'll rip your stiches out." Arthur put his hand on his brother's chest and pushed him back in bed, "She's fine. She called for help and got both of you out of there. But she's still being treated for…" He trailed off, running his hands through greasy blond hair, "Those cuts on her chest… They'll heal. Probably."

Alfred let his head fall back on his pillow, "Great. I let her run off to Russia. Then I 'saved' her. Then she saved us. I'm fine and she'll heal. Probably." He groaned as his side started throbbing, "Just great. Pop the bubbly, time to celebrate."

**X~X~X**

There was something tight around her chest. It was hard to breath with the layers of bandage. Natalya stirred and felt warm fingers slip into hers. Her eyes flew open.

"Alfred?"

Katya shook her head, stroking her face gently, "No, sister. It's me."

"Katya…?" Natalya sat up a little, only to hiss and lay back down.

"Stop." Her sister said softly, "Your chest."

"What are you doing here?" She asked quickly.

Katya's eyes softened, "Be nice, Natalya. Please." She looked away when Natalya continued to glare, "I came as soon as I heard."

"You heard what was happening years ago."

Katya bit her lip, "Nyet.. I thought.. I thought it might have been different this time. He's older. He might have changed—"

"Changed?" Natalya shrieked, her voice cracking, "You were with him for longer than I. You know him. Did he change?"

Katya wouldn't meet her sister's eye.

"No… He didn't." Natalya spoke coldly, "I saved you. After years of you saving me… I did the same for you. I took him."

Katya looked up at her.

"And you just let me."

"Natalya…" Katya begged, tears welling up in her eyes, "Not this. Not right now. You aren't," Her eyes flickered done to her sister's bandaged chest and she faltered, "Aren't well, sister. You aren't well."

Natalya's eyes widened, "What was that..?"

"Što?"

"That look." Natalya looked done at her chest. It was heavily gauzed over, but she could tell it was thickest right below her collar bone, "What is this for? What happened?"

"I-I…" Katya looked away.

"Stop lying!" Natalya shouted, shaken by her sister's reaction, "You've been lying to me since the day I was born! Tell me the truth!"

Katya looked at her with a pathetic, pleading expression on her face, "I.. I can't, sister."

Natalya's eye hardened and she set her jaw, "Out." She pointed to the door.

Katya was stunned, "Što? No… Please, Natalya… I—"

"Get out, Katya!" Natalya yelled.

Her sister backed out of the room quickly. Natalya watched her go, before letting her eyes close. She waited in silence for them to come. The doctors. She waited for them to come ask her all their questions. To assess her metal heath. To pump her full of drugs.

She sighed, trying to enjoy the last few minutes she would have as herself. Before their medicine made her foggy. Only one thought passed through her mind. Alfred. Was Alfred alright?

**X~X~X**

Alfred wheeled himself through the hallway. It was only a few hours later, but he had made a 'miraculous' recovery. Although they had let him get out of bed, they refused to let him walk. Iggy had tried to go with him, but Alfred had convinced him otherwise. He could do it. He had to.

He stopped right outside of her door before carefully pushing it open.

"Natalya?"

Her body jerked, but her eyes stayed closed.

Alfred sighed, wheeling himself in, "I know you can hear me. I know you are awake."

She stayed still, her breath too shallow to be sleeping anyway.

He smiled, putting his hand in hers. He felt her fingers squeeze around his, "Fine. But… How are you? Are you feeling any better?"

Silence. Alfred looked at her closely before glancing toward the door. If she wouldn't… talk to him. Then there was no hope. He had to…

"What's wrong with me, Alfred?"

His head jerked back to look at her. She looked at him with those soft violet eyes surrounded by scratches and bruises, "Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you."

"Katya wouldn't tell me." Natalya looked away from him and down at her chest, "What's under there?"

"I…" Alfred wavered, trying to think.

"Please." Her eyes were back on his, "Just tell me."

"I… I can't."

Her eyes hardened as his eyes saddened. "But you can see… Are you sure..?"

She nodded and he produced a pair of scissors. Watching his hands carefully as the metal snipped away at her bandages, she saw the red bleeding out from underneath them. They fell off in a mess of tangled, bloody gauze. She gasped and turned away from her skin, fighting back tears. Those letters.. That word.

'IVAN'.

Her wounds were raw and festering. They weren't healing and they never would. Not until she let them. She felt his hand grip hers just a little tighter.

"It's okay… I'm here. And I always will be. He can't hurt you anymore. He can't control you."

Natalya shook her head, tears falling, "No, Alfred. He can. He will always have me. I need him."

"No, you don't you!"

She shrunk back from the harshness of his voice, "Da.. I do. Otherwise…" She bit her lip, "You don't know how bad it gets."

"I do!" Alfred said in earnest, "I saw it!"

Her eyes widened.

"You don't need him! You don't need him to heal! He made you think that you do." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, "I went to.. Russia.. To help you because someone told me that you didn't need _him_. He said that _I_ could be the person that helps you pick up the pieces. And I wanted to be that person. Oh God, I wanted to be him."

His sky blue eyes met her violet ones and he smiled, "But no… Natalya… You are the strongest and bravest person I know." He chuckled, "Hell! You might be more of hero than me! But if there is one thing I know… You don't need anyone. You could heal without anyone. You are independent."

"Independent…?" She whispered. The hazy memory came back. The last time she had declared independence. She was so close. She had been so close to breaking free. She could do it again.

"Independent." She said with more confidence.

Alfred nodded.

"I'm not a Soviet state." She sat up as much as she could, "The Soviet Union doesn't even exist anymore!" She stared down at her chest with absolute hatred, "And I'm not _his_!"

A breath of fresh air filled her lungs and she could breathe for the first time in decades. A weight had been lifted off her chest. A weight that had nearly crushed her. But she was free. She could go on with her life.

The letters carved into her flesh had stopped bleeding and started scabbing over. Alfred watched in amazement—stunned into silence. Natalya's eyes opened and met his with a new, burning passion.

"Alfred?"

His throat was dry as he looked into those mesmerizing violet beauties, "Yeah…?"

"I… Thank you. For everything."

He smiled, "Your welcome. It was my pleasure."

She raised a sarcastic eyebrow, "Really? You enjoyed that?"

"I.. Uh.." He rubbed the back of his neck, a blush creeping up it, "No… But I'm glad you are safe."

"I'm glad… you are safe too." She smiled tentatively.

Alfred looked deep into her eyes and moved closer to her carefully, "I… I missed you, Natalya." He planted a small kiss on her cheek, "And I'll be here for you until you are… better."

"No…"

He backed away quickly, "What? Oh.. I.. Sorry. I didn't mean to..." He felt something stopping his hand as he tried to pull it away.

"No… I—" Natalya bit her lip, "I meant… You don't have to be here. I.. I could never ask you to do that. You've done enough, Alfred."

"But I want to be here!" He insisted, clutched her hand tighter, "I won't leave your side."

She frowned, "But… What? W-Why?"

"I… Care about you, Natalya."

"I…" She looked at him in confusion, "I care about you too?"

Alfred chuckled, "Don't force it… Just.. Just get better. Please?"

"Da." She nodded, pulling him in for an awkward hug, "I… I will try."

He kissed her neck and hugged her gently, avoiding her injured chest. Time. Time would heal all wounds. And he had time. He had time for her.

******X~X~X**

* * *

**I 3 AmeBel**


	9. And I can do anything

**(A/N): Sorry this one took so long. I've been very busy, plus I wanted to get the ending perfect! I think I did at least a decent job. But as usual.. Feel free to hate me! As I said before this is an Epilogue, but I will be writing more! They are all going to be song fics so if you have a song in mind feel free to PM me! Anyother pairing than US/UK. No.. Just awful. Terrible.**

**Anyway! This has gone on long enough! I'm going on summer vacation in a couple days for two weeks. After that I will get back to writing when I get back!**

**Love you all!**

* * *

_Epilouge: And I can do anything._

**X~X~X**

"I'm here for you, baby." Alfred whispered in her ear, squeezing her fingers reassuringly.

Natalya nodded, taking a deep breath. She walked with her boyfriend through the stark white halls. She had spent way too much time in places like this. Hospitals. But she had been a patient before, now she was just a visitor.

He had requested her presence. She should have said no. Alfred had begged her not to go; he didn't want her to ever have to see him again. But they had reached a compromise. Alfred would come with her.

"Ivan Braginski's room."

The nurse looked up at Alfred with uncertainty, "May I asked your relation with Mr. Braginski?"

Alfred stared at her, mouth slightly agape— his usual silver tongue failing him.

"Me." Natalya swallowed the lump in her throat, "He's my brother."

The woman nodded as Alfred looked at her, "Very well then, ma'am. Room 413."

They walked in silence until they reached the room. Alfred took her hand again.

"Natalya, listen to me."

She rolled her eyes, "Alfred! You've told me everything that you possibly could!" She glanced up at him. "'Be careful.' 'Don't fall for any of his tricks.' 'If he even places a finger on you I will—"

He chuckled, "No… Princess, listen to me for once, okay?"

She shrugged, looking deep into his blue eyes, "You don't _have_ to do this. He doesn't deserve the time of day from you."

He pulled her into his arms for a hug, "I_ love_ you, Natty. More than you can ever know. And it hurts me to see you…" He looked down her shirt. Thin white scars looked back at him, spelling her brother's name.

"It hurts me to see you like this." Alfred hugged her closer, "Please… Please. I'm asking you for the last time. Don't do this."

Natalya pulled away, looking up at her amazing boyfriend. She could never thank him enough for everything he had done for her and everything that he promised to do. But there were some things that couldn't be avoided.

She pulled him down for a kiss, guiding his hand up and placing it over her heart. He smiled into the kiss, relieved that she was changing her mind. She pulled away again and glanced through the frosted glass into her brother's room.

"I love you too, Alfred. You helped me do this…" She lifted his hand so he could see how much her scars had healed. They were only thin white lines, simply an echo of the past. But all he could see was that they were still there. He wanted them gone. He wanted her to be free for once in her life.

She had spent weeks convincing him that it wasn't his fault, he couldn't have gotten there sooner. But every time he saw them… It brought pain to his own chest. Sometimes he wondered whether Ivan had meant to hurt Natalya or him with this action.

"But.. Nyet. I have to do this. I can do this." She reached out for the door knob when his gloved hand caught her wrist.

"Alfred. I have to do…" She looked into his eyes.

"I'll be here, Natty. When you… When you get come out of there, I'll always be here."

Natalya nodded and swallowed, walking into the hospital room before she could second guess herself. Machines hummed in her presence but only one was hooked up to her brother. She approached the bed, careful to keep a distance from him.

"Ivan?"

He opened his eyes. They were dull and tired.

"Natalya…?"

She shuddered at the sound of his voice, but kept her eye firmly trained on him. It was easier knowing where he was at all times.

"Da. You wanted to see me?" She said stiffly.

He looked at her for a minute before speaking in an arid voice, "It hurts… It hurts so much."

She glared down at him, "I know." She looked at the IV that was feeding into his arm, "Are you on anything?"

Ivan nodded, "24 hours a day." His crazed eyes bored into hers, "How did you do it? This.. This is torture." He closed his eyes, "I see them… Even when I close my eyes…"

Natalya nodded, drawing closer to her brother—understanding his plight for the first time, "Vanya…"

He jerked up, straining his muscles, but the straps kept him firmly bound to the bed. She jumped away from him as he shouted at her.

"They're dead! All of them! They're all supposed to be gone! I.. I—" Ivan's violet eyes locked onto hers, "I killed them, Natalya…"

Her hands balled up in tight fists and she planted her feet firmly on the ground again, "Yes, Ivan. You did. You killed them and now they're haunting you. They'll always haunt you. But…" She bit her lip, "But remember what you told me?"

Ivan glared up at her, "No… Everything I told you was a lie!"

Natalya closed her eyes, remembering all the things he had said to her, all the things had had done. It all flashed through her mind, but it felt like someone else's life. Being raised by her brother from birth. Being taught from the very first moment that she was nothing and no one would ever love her. Having Ivan, her older brother, as the only male figure in her life. Being raped by that male figure. It was a lie. It was all a lie.

Natalya's eyes shot open and she stalked over to Ivan's bedside, "Everything you told me was a lie? I think you have that wrong, _vialiki brat _(1). Everything you had me tell you was a lie. Every single word you forced out of my mouth was a lie. I don't need you. I don't want you. I don't loveyou."

She looked into his face with absolute repulsion, "The only true and useful thing you ever made me believe is that I was pathetic. I was. I thought I needed you. And I was wrong."

Ivan looked up at her in shock.

Natalya scowled and pulled down her shirt, "Look at this!" The white scars shone against her milky skin, "These things you gave me. These awful things you branded me with. They get better every day I'm away from you. And I get better. I have a life now. A life that's not controlled by you. A life that's my own to do whatever I want with." She spared a glance out the door, thinking about what she had chosen to do with her life.

"You." She accused, "You don't own me anymore. Never again. You are the pathetic one. You need to use and abuse women to get off. That's sick." She smirked, "And now you are sick."

His eyes widened.

"You never thought you would need me, did you?" She leaned in closer, "But now you have them… The hallucinations. How do you like them? Are they fun yet? I would think you would like them, considering how much you enjoy other's suffering. Now you get to watch it all the time. Over and over."

He strained against the straps.

"You need my help to find your way back to reality." She pinched his arm to make sure he could hear her. She needed him to listen, "Beg."

Ivan scowled, but remained silent.

"Beg for it!" She shouted, "Beg for help. Like you always made me."

He took at a deep breath, "Natalya… Help me. Please. Pozhaluĭsta."

She smiled and backed away; looking at the machine his IV was hooked up to, she punched a button on it. More of the drug pumped into his body.

"There." She said sweetly, "That should do it."

Ivan snarled— his heart beat sky rocketing with anger, "You American Slut! Get back here and fix this! Make them stop!"

She tapped his heart rate monitor with mock concern, "Oh tovarisch (2)… You should really calm down."

"I'm going to kill you when I get out of here!"

Anger flickered across her face, "I'm not afraid of you, but others are. They will _never_ let you out of here. You are going to die screaming and begging for mercy that no one will give you. You will never get near me." She spat at him before smiling wickedly, "Plus, I have a hero on my side."

Natalya turned around and slammed the door, drowning out the Russian obscenities. She barely had time to take a breath before she was pulled into her boyfriend's arms.

"Are you okay?" Alfred asked in earnest.

She chuckled. It was amazing how much passion he could express in one sentence, "Da, I'm fine. It was just a little talk. You worry too much."

He let go of her and brought his hands up to cup her face, "He didn't hurt you did he?"

Natalya him a small smile, "Not even a little."

Alfred relaxed a little and walked with her out of the hospital. She looked around at the carefully cultivated flower beds and the trees, their leaves rustling in the light breeze. It was unreal to think that if she turned around she would see the hospital that he brother was committed to. Gripping the man's hand tightly she faltered in her stride.

He looked at her questioningly. She pulled him to bench and sat down without a word.

"Is something wrong?" Alfred asked her.

She frowned, "I was thinking about what you said and… You were right."

Alfred laughed, "Of course I was right! I'm always right, Princess."

She rolled her eyes, trying to explain, "No, Alfred. I mean… While I was in the hospital you told me that you would be with me until I was better. You told me that you would wait."

He smiled softly, "And I have."

She took a deep breath, "But… I'm better now. You don't need to be here."

He stiffened, "W-What? I…"

She looked at his stricken face, "I don't need you."

Alfred's jaw hardened.

Her nose wrinkled, keeping a large grin from spreading across her face. Natalya grabbed him roughly by the collar, bringing his face down to hers, "But I _want_ you."

She kissed him passionately. His eyes widened before he hugged her close, ignoring everything else. There was no screaming, no running this time. It was only them. It would only be them. Neither of them broke it until they ran out of breath. Natalya clung to his shirt tightly and narrowed her eyes.

Alfred looked at her nervously, praying that she hadn't changed her mind, "W-What?" He asked breathlessly.

"You need _me_." She spoke in an authoritative voice, "You. Are. Mine."

He grinned giddily, "Yes. Always. For as long as you want me."

She smirked, a wicked look in her eyes, before she pulled him in for another kiss. Their lips collided and Alfred thought that this was what he had been waiting for his entire life. Someone like her. Someone who could be… Natalya Arlovskaya.

But all she had needed was a push. One little moment that allowed her to break free. All she had need was a hero. Superman.

**X~X~X**

(1) Big brother

(2) Comrade

* * *

**(A/N): Goodbye world of AmeBel! I will return to you shortly. **


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